


Stay

by TimelessDreamer2



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post The Devil's Share, Slashy, it's a story, rinch, you were warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimelessDreamer2/pseuds/TimelessDreamer2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold's reaction to the events in The Devil's Share was more than John expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harold's Decision and John's Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> It was not supposed to get that angsty. It was supposed to be more of a slightly somber then happy fluffly thing. Nope. Didn't exactly happen that way.
> 
> This will have a happy ending. I promise...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold gives up helping the numbers. John won't accept the decision.

Two months, that was how long it had been since John’s rampage through the city. Eight weeks, spent ensuring that John’s wound had time to heal. Sixty one days, working from a bedside chair, feeding Shaw information, and wishing all the while that the voice in his ear was different.

It wasn’t that John wasn’t speaking, nor was it that Harold didn’t rest, but neither actually wanted to bring up those horrible couple of days. Instead, anything that was discussed was forcibly light, or on those occasions when Shaw was present, mostly spent listening to her snipe with him and John.

In all honesty, Harold didn’t mind. It was a good sign that John was stable enough to do so. The problem was, Harold had no idea what to do to fix the awkwardness that was between them. In truth, he was afraid that it was an impossible task. Like John, he felt a great deal of guilt over Detective Carter’s death, possibly even more than John did. The difference was it truly was Harold’s fault and he knew it. That was why he had been so straightforward with John when he offered the job. He had stated, plainly that they would both end up dead, but Harold never intended for these results. He had worried over John’s ‘adoption’ of Fusco, and then later Carter. He felt responsible every time John went after a number, and that only grew those times that the Detectives were involved. By the time Shaw had joined them, Harold had almost been able to convince himself that it would be alright, that between John and himself, he could keep everyone safe. He knew now, he had been a fool.

At the end of those two months, John had been antsy, ready and willing to get up and vanish, going off to do whatever it was that he did when there were no numbers. Which was why, the morning that John’s doctor agreed that he could leave, something that was forced on John by Harold, Bear and surprisingly enough, Shaw, Harold found himself shifting slightly in his chair, pointedly ignoring the occasional looks that John directed his way.

“Do you have something to say, Harold?” The even tone was still a bit harsher than usual, as it had been since John awoke, but still Harold remained silent.

He waited, until John was about to step out of the room before finally speaking up. “Mr. Reese… Before you go…” Slowly, and aware of his partner’s eyes heavy on him, Harold pushed himself out of the chair and crossed the room, tucking his left hand into his coat pocket.

“What is it Harold? I’m kind of looking forward to seeing some different scenery.” The joke fell a little flat but the effort was there. John didn’t want to have this conversation, but he knew it was inevitable.

Harold took a shaky breath, then grabbed John’s right hand, holding the palm upward. From his own pocket, he pulled out John’s gun, the same one from that night, only now clean, as pristine as its owner preferred to keep it. “I simply did not want you out on your own without this… So, I cleaned it for you.” Harold’s voice was low as he carefully placed the gun in John’s hand, then stepped backward, eyes focused on a distant spot. “Please… Be careful.”

John stared at the gun, his partner and back again, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Harold, of all people had not only carried, but taken care of his gun, personally. Harold hated guns, a fact that John knew very well, he also knew that his partner wasn’t overly fond of blood, especially John’s. The fact that he had taken care of it, returned it, was a large shock, one that came on the heels of the surprising fact that Harold apparently wasn’t going to push him for an explanation of John's rogue actions.

“That’s it? You just wanted to return my gun?” John knew he sounded stunned, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“And to ask that you be careful, in whatever it is that you do.” Harold straightened a bit more, standing so stiffly now that he looked in danger of snapping. “Excuse me.” Stepping awkwardly around John, He started out of the apartment, only John’s questioning clasp of Harold’s arm stopping him.

It sounded like Harold was saying goodbye and that thought made John’s stomach clench. “What does that mean, Harold?” When the older man stayed silent, he continued to press. “Answer me, Finch…”

Still looking over at the doorway, Harold’s mouth tightened. “I mean exactly that, Mr. Reese. All I wish is for you to be careful in your endeavors.” Harold hated it that he always sounded so detached when he was upset. It was a tell and one that he hadn’t managed to completely get rid of. Knowing that it was pointless to continue to avoid it, Harold took a step back, working his arm free, and finally looking up at John, more accurately, the air over John’s right shoulder. “I refuse to do this to you any longer, Mr. Reese. To anyone. I will be finished disconnecting the Library by tomorrow, please feel free to collect your arsenal afterward.”

Floored, John stared at Harold, noting all the little things that he did when he was upset, the extra stiff posture, the slower and more enunciated speech and his lack of direct eye contact, things that John knew because he knew Harold. Things that told him the older man was completely serious. “Does this apply to everyone or just me?” The minute the question was asked, John knew how cruel it was.

He was proven right a second later, when Harold stiffened a bit more, and nodded as sharply as he was able. “Everyone, Mr. Reese. I informed Miss Shaw yesterday and asked her to kindly share that fact with Detective Fusco. Now… if you’ll excuse me…” Harold refused to mention that Shaw had rolled her eyes, and stated plainly that Harold wasn’t ditching her anytime soon, something that Harold planned to prove her wrong about, or about the fact that Bear was waiting in John’s loft. It wasn’t necessary, his choice had been made.

“Oh no, not until you explain why.” John had lost Joss, his best friend and sister, there was no chance that he was going to lose his partner, lose _Harold_ , and certainly not without an explanation. He caught a hold of Harold’s arm again, and waited.

Five minutes passed before Harold’s head dropped, just a bit and it shook slightly from side to side. “For the exact same reason that you were forced to spend two months in a recovery bed, Mr. Reese. Because this foolish obsession of mine killed a very dear friend of ours.” His head came back up, this time meeting John’s eyes directly, truth, sorrow, guilt and determination evident. “I will not be the cause, direct or indirect, of any more deaths of those I allowed myself to care for. _Not_ Miss Shaw, _not_ Detective Fusco or his son, and **_not_** you. If all of you are to die, it will not be because of me.” Harold dropped his eyes again, this time to John's hand still holding his arm. “Please remove your hand, Mr. Reese.” He tried to keep his voice cold and steady.

John's biggest problem during his time in the CIA was that he had the terrible ability to see things from other people's point of view. It was how he figured out what Mark had planned, how he knew that often their kills weren't exactly for the honor of their country. This same ability made it easy for him to see why Harold was thinking the way that he was. For all that John had more contact, that John had been the one to encourage, Harold had actually been the one to originally show Carter what it was they did, Harold who despite all his objections, doubts and worry, hadn't actually ordered John to stop. Now, Harold had decided that he couldn't listen any longer, he couldn't watch any longer. Harold, who never backed down, who never stopped looking and finding a way out, _Harold_ was giving up.

“You know that it wasn't...” John didn't get any farther than that, before Harold interrupted him raising one hand and slashing it through the air.

“Mr. Reese.” The tone was cold now. “I would appreciate it, if for no other reason than common courtesy, that you not attempt to placate me with useless platitudes. Such things would not work on you, nor will they work on me. I will not risk your lives any longer. I will no longer take these foolish attempts to lessen my guilt. Instead, I will simply vanish as I was meant to four years ago.”

John’s expression tightened, as he did not care at all for the way Harold worded that sentence. Weighing his words, and slightly tightening his grip on Harold’s jacket, John spoke quietly. “And.. where will we be going, Harold?”

For a moment, Harold’s eyes closed, before he resumed his stare at the floor. “I am not certain about you, Mr. Reese, but I have need to return to the Library, I still have several pressing things that need to be attended to. In addition, I do not believe that my plans are important at this time.”

“Not important? I think you forgot who you are talking to, Finch.” There was a blankness in John’s voice. “I find it very important to know your plans.” Now there was a hint of challenge in that low tone. The one that few people could answer.

Harold though, never had that problem.  “I can respect your opinion, Mr. Reese, however it is no longer your concern…”

John’s patience snapped. “No.” He slipped his gun into his own pocket and settled his right hand on Finch’s shoulder, his left still gripping the other man’s arm. “You forgot something, Finch.  A couple of somethings actually.”

Harold, more occupied with trying to get out of John’s hold, just frowned and shook his head.

Tightening his grip just enough to insure his partner was going nowhere, he continued, softer now. “You forgot that you were my hope, Finch… That when I was stuck all alone, thinking, no knowing that no one was going to come for me, _you_ proved me wrong. Three times now, you came for _me_ , when you didn’t have to, when you _shouldn’t_ have and now you tell me that we’re done? You can’t _do_ that, Harold.”

“Pardon, my rudeness then. I had simply assumed that you would not wish to work with Miss Groves. If that is your wish then I will inform her once you let me return to the Library.” Harold’s tone was stiff and overly proper.

“Do you remember what I told you, not too long ago, when the Machine wasn’t sending us numbers? How I said that it wasn’t right for you to go on paying me so well?”

“Of course I remember, Mr. Reese, but I do not see what that has to do with….”

John raised his voice just enough to be heard. “At no point, did I think that since there were no numbers that I would be doing anything but staying with you. What gives you the idea that has changed, Harold? Explain it to me, properly, and I’ll let you go.” John decided not to mention that it wouldn’t matter, because he was _not_ losing Harold too.

“I do not appreciate being manipulated, Mr. Reese, however if it will insure that you are content with these arrangements then I will cede to your request. I will no longer be assisting the numbers. I am aware that I cannot do them any good alone and as I am no longer willing to risk the lives of those I care for, then I must simply accept that I can be of no use to them. Therefore, I will be removing myself from the situation. If you or Miss Shaw wish to continue, then I am certain that Miss Groves will be more than pleased to accept your help. I fully intend to disappear after tomorrow.” Shifting slightly under John’s hands, Harold scowled up at him. “Have I explained myself to your satisfaction, now?”

John stared at Harold while the other man talked. He hadn’t considered that Harold would decide that the entire situation was his fault. John had been sure that Harold would express either disapproval over what John did, or possibly understanding at why he had, never assuming how deep Harold’s guilt really ran. “Just one thing, Harold… Where are we going?”

Startled, Harold stared directly at John, mouth open slightly. “You are not joining me, Mr. Reese.”

“Of course I am, Harold.”

“I am fairly certain that you are not.”

Leaning just a bit, John met Harold’s stubborn stare. “It’s simple, Harold. I am staying with you. You offered me an out before, I declined. I stayed, even knowing that we might never get another number. I’m staying now, for one very good reason. Yes.. we lost Joss.. We can’t change that. But we’ve also saved so many. Darren, Dr. Tilman, Trask, Leila.” He paused, then carried onward. “We saved them. But.. you were the one that came for me. Just you, _alone_ , on that roof and in that garage. That was you, and you can say all day long that you can’t save people on your own, but I know better.”

Harold kept staring, still after all this time with John, not used to hearing so many words at once. Not to mention it was rare that John mentioned what happened on that roof. “I… would prefer it if you lived a long happy life… John…”

“And I would prefer it if you stayed right here and we lived whatever life we could, Harold.” John’s tone was soft now, while his eyes stayed fixed on Harold’s. “Don’t run away.” The hand on Harold’s shoulder, moved up to keep the older man from breaking the stare.

“I…” Harold closed his eyes instead. “I am not running. I am simply trying to do what you always do.”

“What is that?”

“Protect people…” Harold whispered, trying to keep his face blank. “I do not wish to kill or endanger anyone else I care for…”

John waited, and when it became obvious that Harold wasn’t going to continue, he spoke. “So, is that the only reason you want to leave?”

“No, that is the only reason that I am leaving.” Harold sighed, “I’m not as strong as you, John. I can’t keep watching, listening to all of you constantly being hurt. I simply can’t handle it alone anymore.” Finally, Harold opened his eyes, slightly started to see that John hadn’t moved at all. “So please, just…”

John shook his head. “It’s not going to happen that way, Harold. First of all, you aren’t getting rid of me, second, do you really want to let Root and Shaw run around without us there to minimize the damages? Finally, I am not going to lose you, not now, not ever, even if I have to fight you every step of the way. Stay.”

Harold started to argue, even got his mouth open before John dropped his head slightly pressing their foreheads together.

“Stay with me, Harold. You don’t want to lose us, I understand that, believe me, but I can’t lose you at the same time. You said that you don’t want us hurt right? Then, you _have_ to stay.” John’s voice was barely more than a breath.

Harold sighed once more, and then made an odd sound when John dropped his head a bit more and connected their mouths in a firm kiss. When John lifted his head again, Harold looked an odd mix of stunned, happy and confused.

  
“We’re partners, Harold. In any way you choose to define the word. If you leave, so do I. If you stay, so do I.”


	2. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root and Shaw's reactions to Harold's decision. Harold's reason and John's determination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't planning on continuing this. However Mavet asked for more.  
> Which turned into even more...  
> I hope you enjoy this Mavet!
> 
>  
> 
> Unbetad.... because I was worried I would chicken out.

Harold swallowed, a million thoughts running through his mind at once. He didn’t want to do this to John. He wanted his partner, the man that had _truly_ saved so many to have his chance to be happy. Still, it was obvious that John wasn’t willing to accept the decision. The same decision that he had agonized over for weeks. The worst part was, John was not the only one to argue about it.

 

******

**Yesterday**

**The Library**

**09:47:36**

_“You know, Harold… I can think of several better places than **here** to have as a base…” Root tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder as she smiled up at Harold. “Especially with all the dust…”_

_Stiffly, Harold answered. “I am certain that you can, Miss Groves, and you will have ample opportunity to do so in two days. Until then however, you will simply have to put up with my preference.” The frown continued, as he set the tray of tea down on the long table, before immediately taking a step backward._

_“Two days? There isn’t anything happening then, Harry.” Her tone was slightly condescending, as it always was when she was bragging about her access to the Machine._

_The fact that she didn’t know, made Harold smirk slightly. Of course, the only reason that she didn’t know was because Harold had not mentioned his plans to anyone, nor has he started his preparations. He knew exactly how long it would take him to disassemble the Library and given that he always had at least a dozen possible escape plans, that meant there was nothing for the Machine to know, yet.  “There is no need to concern yourself over it, Miss Groves. It will not affect you in any way.”_

_Despite the agreeable tone Harold used, Root still shot to her feet, a hint of panic in her expression. “If something was going to happen, I would know. **She** would tell me!”_

_Unwilling to waste any more of his time, Harold simply turned and limped toward the door._

_“Harold…” Root’s voice was low now, honestly worried. “Is something going to happen? Did she tell you and not me?”_

_The last thing Harold really needed was Root in a panic. That was almost as destructive as Shaw in a bad mood, so he turned again. “Miss Groves, I can assure you that the Machine has told me nothing. It has not informed you of anything because it does not know.” Reaching for the door, Harold slid it closed and latched it, but as he had for the last two months, he left the lock undone._

_Root’s expression changed rapidly as she worked it out. “You have something planned.” Her voice wasn’t accusing, nor was it the overly sweet tone that she sometimes used. “Only someone that knew how she worked would be able to hide anything from her. I’m here, like she wants, that leaves you. What is it, Harry? Maybe I can help?” Now the sweet was back._

_A frown crossed Harold’s face. “That is not necessary, Miss Groves. I have everything under control. I need no further assistance.” He took two steps away, then paused, aware of the sharp gaze on his back, and decided that it would probably be for the best if he did a trial run in explaining his decision. After all, why would she care what he intended? Of course, Shaw probably won’t care either, and John… well, he most likely won’t even notice Harold was gone until after it happened. His partner would be safer that way._

_Retracing his steps, but leaving the door closed, Harold made a point to speak quietly. “I have decided to abandon this endeavor, Miss Groves.” He ignored the sharp inhale that followed his words and carried on. “I am deeply saddened by the loss of Detective Carter and I no longer wish to bring harm to my friends. Therefore, I will be leaving the city as soon as possible. I wish you good health.” Satisfied, since he really didn’t intend to get into the depth of his caring for John, Shaw and Detective Fusco, and since the only kind thing he felt comfortable wishing her was heath, Harold was content with how the explanation went._

_Root stared for half a minute, then lurched for the gate. “Harold! You can’t do that!” Her eyes were wide and unhappy. “You’re going against her wishes!”_

_Exasperated, Harold scowled. “Miss Groves. I have been nothing but tolerant of your belief that my Machine is some kind of God. However, what I do is of no concern to it. I am not planning to attack anyone in any way, thus I am putting no lives in danger. In fact, I will hopefully be protecting a few.”_

_“No! No, you have to be here!” Root’s speech was quicker than usual, and her fingers were curled around the wire. “You have to help the Irrelevants! You’re compromising her objectives! She isn’t going to let you do this!” Each word was faster and slightly higher pitched than the one before it._

_“Then, if you are so concerned with the Numbers, I suggest you do something about them. Good **day** , Miss Groves.” Harold voice was cold, in a way that few had ever heard. He turned, much faster than was wise and limped back into the main room._

 

******

John watched as Harold just kept staring. Waiting, wondering exactly what his partner was thinking about. He hoped that he had gotten through to Harold, but John doubted that it would be that easy. Harold was stubborn, far more so than John was, and once he had decided on something, it was almost impossible to change his mind. What John was counting on was Harold sincere desire to spare them all more harm.

Taking advantage of Harold’s distracted state, John adjusted his grip, making sure that there was no chance that Harold could squirm out of it. His left hand remained wrapped around Harold’s arm, but his right, slid down and curled around his partner’s wrist.

Harold didn’t even notice, still too lost in thought. He had been so surprised by Root’s vehement denial of his plan, that Shaw’s reaction had barely registered. Now, thinking about it again, and still trying to figure out why everyone seemed so determined to keep him around, it made almost as little sense as Root’s did.

 

******

**Yesterday**

**The Library**

**17:54:12**

_Harold had been in the process of packing away one of his computers when Shaw arrived, slipping into the room as silently as possible._

_“What are you doing?” The tone was indifferent, cool, like it usually was._

_“I am removing this computer, Miss Shaw. Did you resolve the situation?” Harold didn’t bother to ask if she was unharmed, as that usually tended to make the woman testy, and he had already had his fill of irritated women today._

_“Of course, I did. I took Bear over to the safehouse and planted him directly on Reese’s lap, so he wouldn’t leave early, just like you wanted.” Moving on near silent feet, Shaw skirted the edge of the room before pausing just at the edge of Harold’s vision._

_Harold hated it when she did that, and was convinced that was why she continued to do so. Twisting awkwardly, he frowned up at her, conveying without words that he was really not in the mood._

_“What’s your deal, lately?” The tone was unconcerned and as usual very blunt. Shaw crossed her arms, obviously prepared to wait as long as possible._

_“I do not have time for this, Miss Shaw. If you have handled, Mr. Reese, then please feel free to go along and do whatever it is that you do.” Harold turned back to his work._

_A scowl crossed the woman’s face, before she tilted her head slightly. “At least tell me why I had to have Bear babysit Reese?”_

_Silently counting backwards from the 50th digit of Pi, Harold’s voice was calmer when he spoke. “I do not wish for Mr. Reese to leave before I have the opportunity to return his weapon, Miss Shaw. You know as well as I do, that there are still a few people that are continuing to attempt to locate him. It is unwise for him to venture out unarmed.”_

_“I never thought I would hear you say that, Harold.” Shaw sounded amused now. “Answer one more thing and I’ll leave.”_

_Leaning backward so that he could look at her without aggravating his neck, Harold raised an eyebrow in a silent question._

_“Why is Root acting like the world is going to end?” Shaw settled back against one of the dusty bookshelves, acting like there was all the time in the world, picking up a random book off the shelf and idly flipping through it._

_“Miss Groves is under the misguided impression that I am interfering with the Machine’s operations. She is mistaken and will eventually settle.” Harold sounded convinced, but Root had been yelling various things the entire day, not to mention, the two hours that she had spent muttering, either to herself or the Machine, Harold wasn’t sure._

_“Really? Well that explains the books all over the floor. What gave her that idea?” Now Shaw’s voice was obviously amused._

_“She took a great deal of offense when I mentioned to her that I will no longer be working on the numbers.” Harold tucked the last of the cords away, neatly and closed the box._

_There was a soft sound, and then Harold looked back up, Shaw was standing there, both hands hanging at her sides, and a baffled look on her face. The book she had been holding was now on the floor at her feet. “That’s a good one, Finch. You almost had me.”_

_“I am not joking with you, Miss Shaw. I had intended to explain this to you tomorrow, however, I see no reason to delay the conversation.” Slowly, he straightened himself from his crouch on the floor, and walked over to a file cabinet. He removed a fat envelope from one of the drawers and handed it over. “As you will see, I have taken the liberty of preparing for you a few extra clean identities, in case you wish to leave the city, also, I have left a considerable severance amount in one of your accounts. All I ask is for you to kindly inform Detective Fusco that I at least will no longer be requesting his assistance. I am unaware if Mr. Reese will continue to do so, but I still feel he should be informed.”_

_Shaw shook her head. “Yeah.. you know it doesn’t work like that right? This is a good job, I get to fight people and get paid for it, all while knowing that if I’m compromised, my handler will actually have my back. You know I’ll just keep showing up whenever I feel like it. You can’t hide from me forever, and you bring trouble, which I like.” Still she tucked the envelope away, before adding. “But I’ll play along for now. Maybe, I’ll even tell Lionel for you.” With a casual shrug, Shaw left the room as silently as she had arrived._

 

******

“Harold?”

John’s soft question drew Harold out of his thought, and he shook his head slightly. “I..” Closing his mouth again, Harold took a breath, and tried again. “I.. really feel that this is the best decision for everyone involved, Mr. Reese.”

It wasn’t much, but that slight pause gave John hope that he could convince his partner that he was wrong. “I think that you’re wrong.” John made a point to keep his voice as soft as Harold’s had been.

A frown grew on Harold’s face. “No.. This is what should be done. This is the right decision… I was.. mistaken when I decided to pursue this venture. ” Harold’s head came down slightly, eyes moving from away from John’s face and lingering on his abdomen where his most recent injury had been.

“Why don’t you explain it to me then?”

Harold swallowed again. He was torn, his need for privacy warring against his belief that John had earned this. “When… I decided to begin assisting the numbers.. it was at a very dark time in my life… My actions had caused the death of my only friend. I wanted to do something to help lessen the guilt that I carried… So, I chose then, that I would do as he had wished.. I would save those people.. The ones that were labeled irrelevant, but were in truth important to someone… Something… I would have known had I listened to him in the first place.” He paused. Despite the fact that John already knew about Nathan, even if he didn’t know all the details, it was still difficult to discuss it. “Now… I realize.. that I... what I was really doing, was endangering the people that had become relevant to me…” Harold’s eyes closed again, a slight tremor running through his frame.

John’s mouth was a small tight line. He knew what guilt was capable of. He also knew that Harold’s guilt was rooted in his soul because Harold truly was a good man. The fact that his friends had gone into danger countless times had obviously worn on him, worried him, until it couldn’t be repressed any longer.

John honestly didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t even sure if he _should_ say anything. Instead, he tugged, Harold closer, wrapping his left arm around his partner’s shoulders, in an awkward half hug. For right now, John was content to be a silent support, but the minute Harold was calm again, he was resolving this situation. Harold was going to stay, John would make sure of it.


	3. Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tells the truth, and Harold is forced to face it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was only completed because of Cheyennesunrise’s constant support and positive thinking. Also, I refused to leave Mavet hanging. I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> I promised a happy ending and I delivered it.
> 
> Oh I hope this is acceptable.

It took only a few minutes, before John noticed Harold trying to draw away from the odd half embrace. John tightened his grip for an extra minute before letting his arm slip away, but keeping his hold on his partner’s wrist. Harold wasn’t going anywhere until John had his say.

Harold on the other hand, fervently wished that the floor would simply open up and swallow him. He rarely allowed John to see him falter, because he had always believed that might damage John’s faith that Harold could continue to supply help whenever John needed it. A second later, he chastised himself, he wouldn’t be working with John any longer.

“My.. apologies Mr. Reese. I have not been sleeping very well lately.” This was a truth, something John already knew. Harold gave an experimental tug on his captured wrist, and found that he was going nowhere. “Mr. Reese…”

John shook his head. “It’s my turn, Harold.” The problem was, John wasn’t sure where to start. Of the two of them, Harold was the one that was good with words. John was better at actions. Harold though, couldn’t be reached with just one or the other, both were needed.

Taking a moment to examine the wrist held in his large hand, John started speaking quietly. “I won’t ask you to keep working the numbers, Harold. You gave me a chance to leave, it’s only fair you get the same. But, I won’t let you go without me.” His voice was low and firm.

Harold frowned. He didn’t understand, and there was nothing he hated more than not understanding something. “Why is it that no can accept my decision?” His frustration was evident in his tone. “Miss Groves can do what I do almost as well as I can, not to mention Miss Shaw would probably prefer that, as it would allow her to shoot and kill anyone that she wished.” His frown grew a bit, before he willed it away. “I don’t understand why it bothers everyone so.”

John was honestly surprised to hear that he was not the only one to have problems with Harold’s choice. “Shaw actually said something?”

“She stated that she would continue to follow me, however I do not intend to allow her the opportunity.” Harold again attempted to free his wrist, looking frustrated when he wasn’t able to.

“Harold. Stay here.” John admonished quietly. “Did you ever think that we’d want you to stay?”

Letting John have his way, at least for now, Harold shifted a bit. “No, I assumed that Miss Groves would have no trouble with my decision, while ensuring that you and Miss Shaw were free to do as you pleased. Can’t you see what I’ve caused?” All Harold wanted was for John to understand. He didn’t really care if Root or Shaw did, but John was different. Harold wanted John to see that all he was trying to do was let the man be happy.

John nodded, surprising Harold. ‘Yeah, I can. You caused hundreds of people to have their lives saved. That is just counting the ones I know about. You gave Shaw and even Root, a purpose.” John ignored the dismissive look Harold gave at the mention of Root. “You even gave Bear and me a place, just for us,” A quirk of a smile. “even though we both had kind of sketchy starts.”

Harold shifted again, uncomfortable. “That has nothing to do with my decision, Mr. Reese.” His voice wavered slightly, as it always did when John expressed his appreciation. “It is entirely based on my desire to keep all of you alive, safe and possibly happy.” Harold straightened a bit, his lips still curling downward. “That has become more important to me, than the numbers.” The unsteadiness in his voice grew, showing that Harold wasn’t really comfortable admitting that.

Finally, John got it. It wasn’t just about Harold’s worry over their safety, the loss of Joss, it was also about Harold second guessing himself. Would he continue to be able to risk everything to save one, or would he eventually compromise his decency, his desire to help, risk a possibly innocent life, just to keep the ones he cared about safe? It now made perfect sense to John why Harold would stop helping them, if he didn’t trust himself. John could work with this.

“Harold, every time I go out to work a number, I count on you as my back up. We are going to lose some. Neither of us are going to like that fact, but we can’t change it. But, if we aren’t here, then no one gets saved. I’m not doing this without you, and I’m not letting you go. If you left, then you would think about it all the time. This is your tribute to your friend…”

Harold actually jerked back hard enough that John let go, unwilling to jar Harold’s neck by holding him still. “And what does that say about me that I am willing to risk other friends for that tribute? That the tribute is more important than lives? What type of person does that make me, John? Does that mean that I do not _care_ about Detective Carter’s death? To simply go back as if it had never happened? Continue to risk Detective Fusco and Miss Shaw? To continue to risk _you_? It mocks everything Nathan wanted and risked to start this project! I value my memory of Nathan dearly, I was willing to give my life to the cause that he started, but by risking yours, I dismiss everything we have done for each other. There is no possible way for the two to be equal. I will _not_ belittle either any longer!” Harold stared up at his partner, eyes demanding answers, begging for understanding.

Harold’s anger was a slow burning thing. It was rare that it ever showed itself, usually only appearing in a tightened mouth and cool tone. John marveled at the rare display of passion from his partner. He had witnessed  it before, when Harold talked about that girl he had failed to save, saw it when Harold stared down Penn, and now again, but this time for _him_. “Harold…” Actions then, John decided. Any other words said, would have to be done with actions.

John took half a step, and his hands settled on Harold’s shoulders again, warm and solid. “It’s more complicated than that. Lionel could easily come to you, tell you that he was done, and you would do everything in your power to insure that we would never ask him for another thing, fight me about it over and over until I agreed.” John’s head lowered, eyes fixed on Harold’s. “Shaw, well… she’s different. She _enjoys_ this. It’s not just a job, it’s fun for her. If she didn’t want to be here, she wouldn’t be. It’s that simple. _You_ aren’t risking them, they’re making their own choices.”

Harold took a minute to process. John did have a point. at least as far as Shaw was concerned. Detective Fusco might not think he had a choice, but for all the grumbling and complaints, surely he knew Harold would never intentionally risk his son. Still, that left John. Harold wasn’t willing to risk John any longer either. He had seen first hand what the man was capable of, what he had done after Detective Carter died. Harold didn’t want to lose another. “It… doesn’t change anything…” He was under no illusions that this would work without John. Oh, it might for a while, but Harold honestly could not see it continuing for long.

“It does.” John inched closer. “I risk myself, because I believe in what you are trying to do. This is as much about my guilt as it is yours. We both made mistakes.” Tightening his hold on Harold shoulders just a bit, John shook the thought away. “You are my partner. I said that earlier, I showed you earlier. All I want is for you to stay with me. Do you _want_ to stay?”

Harold’s eyes immediately darted away, looking at the floor, the wall, anywhere but at John. “What I want is your safety…”

“That is what you want for me. What do you want for _**you**_?” John pressed, unwilling to let any advantage, however small, get away.

“That doesn’t matt…”

“It matters, to me.” John dropped his voice a bit, his left hand drifting from Harold’s shoulder to his hand, and loosely lacing their fingers. “Do you want to stay with me?”

“I do…” Harold’s voice was soft, another pained whisper. “But I cannot listen to…”

“No. You can’t do it alone. You won’t be.” John squeezed Harold’s shoulder slightly. “We’ll hogtie Shaw, wrestle her into a vest, and explain that is the only way she’ll get to do this. She’ll get over it. We’ll make backup plans for Lionel and Lee. Whatever you need, Harold.”

Sad eyes drifted up to meet John’s, making the younger man’s heart clench. “Why? Why is it so important to you that I am here.. You could work the number perfectly fine without me. You know that, we both do. Why, do you want me to stay so badly?”

John tugged on Harold’s hand, drawing his partner a bit closer. “Because I want you to stay. I won’t do anything without you. It… isn’t right if you aren’t here. Breakfast in the mornings, before Shaw shows up. Late night takeout, with Bear begging for whatever you don’t catch me giving him.” An unrepentant smile. “Even trying to figure out your favorite baseball team and trying to lure you to a game. I need that. You need that.” Leaning down slightly, John lowered his voice again. “We both need _this_.”

Determined not to give Harold any time to think about his doubts, John kissed him again. It was not like the first one, quick and firm. This one was longer, more an example of exactly what it was John meant that they needed. When John raised his head, barely leaving any space between them, he offered one last time. “Stay, Harold. Just _stay_.”

Harold still wasn’t sure. There were too many questions, to many risks, especially with this. But, the one thing Harold had always promised John was honesty. In addition, he had promised himself that he would match John’s bravery. “Okay…”

John smiled. The word was still questioning, still doubtful, but Harold still said it. He was staying, and John was going to make sure that didn’t change.


End file.
